


if blue could be happiness

by sooblushes



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, ChanSoo Week (EXO), Folklore, M/M, mermaid Kyungsoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2020-05-01 21:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19186114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sooblushes/pseuds/sooblushes
Summary: The story begins the day a seven-year-old Chanyeol nearly drowns.





	if blue could be happiness

**Author's Note:**

> happy chansoo day! i really rushed to finish this >< i wasn't sure if i'd be able to get anything written within 1.5 weeks but here this is! i decided to challenge myself by...not writing smut for once >//<.
> 
> as someone who grew up on a beach, and as someone who has spent some time in remote, sea-side villages—i've been wanting to write a fic that captures the essence of the magic i felt just being the water ^^. this fic is also inspired by the folklore tales of shinjike, and by the haenyo. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy ♥

Chanyeol lets the breeze ruffle his hair, legs rapidly pumping the pedals of his rusted bike as he speeds past the expanse of the grey sea that stretches alongside the eroded, rocky cliffs. The scent of sea chases after him, a familiar smell that he has come to associate with warm hands cradling his child body, combing through his hair, _home_. He doesn’t linger. 

At a slight fork in the tumultuous, man-made trail he’s riding on, Chanyeol pulls sharply right and turns towards the village. The path is forested and familiar, lined with trees and the aroma of mugwort. It’s a hot day out, but not a beautiful one. The sun plays peek-a-boo behind a blanket of stormy clouds, but it’s sweltering; the moisture in the atmosphere making the air feel muggy and humid. The mountainous range of the island does little to shelter Chanyeol from the heat, but the neck-breaking pace at which he’s pedaling brings about a wind of slight relief. 

After a few more minutes, the boy spots the familiar sight of blue tin roofs sprawled in clusters across a small enclave in the centre of the island. When the path narrows and becomes studded with inlaid bricks and stone, marking the entrance to the village, Chanyeol slows to a stop and hops off his bike. He walks it along the path. 

At this time in the afternoon, when the sun is at its peak, there’s not many villagers out and about. He passes by old lady Yoon, who often brags about how her home perfectly follows the _baesanimsu_ principle, taking advantage of the shield of mountains that block off the sun in her courtyard and is washing some cabbages in a bucket of water.

“ _Aigoo_ , look how big you are now,” she shouts loudly at Chanyeol, who bows politely and greets her before moving on. 

It doesn’t take long for him to arrive at his destination: a nondescript _hanok_ made of sloping blue tin rooflines and volcanic stone walls. It’s nearly identical to the rest of the _hanoks_ in the village, down to the open, straight-line architecture signature to southern regions of Korea.

After propping his bicycle up against one of the walls, Chanyeol slides open the front door with more force than he intends, accidentally displacing the taped up paper sign that plainly advertises “ _galchi jorim_ ”—or hairtail fish stew. He pauses to tape it back up, noting that they may need to create a new sign soon. The tape is worn and stickied with dirt, and the paper has slight streaks of brown on it.

Despite the apparent age of the house, Chanyeol had always thought that it’s the definition of cosy. It’s the house he grew up in, after all. There are only really two bedrooms—one for his parents and one for Chanyeol—along with a small kitchen tucked in the corner of the house. However, the windows are wide and the doors are plentiful, offering a beautiful view of the mountain range while letting in a nice breeze to temper the heat during the summer months. A wide, wooden-floored area takes up much of the space in the centre of their property, and that’s where Chanyeol heads now.

Without so much of a pause to take off his backpack, Chanyeol clambers noisily towards the centre of the house. It’s not a big space, only allowing for two or three short-legged dining tables for restaurant customers to sit. In a sleepy village, the restaurant business is never particularly booming, but Chanyeol’s family gets by. 

Now, there’s only one person in the restaurant. Old Shin Yoogeun sits, stooped, in a far corner. He’s one of the many fisherman in their village, but his harvests have not been going well. From what Chanyeol can see is that he’s slowly picking away at the remnants of his rice, the clay pot clearly long finished and gobbled down. 

But he’s not here for Shin Yoogeun. He takes a quick glance around, his eyes immediately catching onto a small figure kneeling at another table. It looks as though he just finished preparing a new batch of diced kimchi radish, and is packing them away for fermentation. His back is facing Chanyeol. Taking advantage of his position, Chanyeol darts up behind the other boy and wraps his arms underneath his armpits and pulls him back into his chest, tightening his arms into an octopus-like back hug. The other boy yelps, dropping the containers back onto the table. 

“Gotcha!” Chanyeol laughs, pressing his cheek against the top of the other boy’s head. The strands of his hair tickle his chin, but he continues nuzzling him anyway.

“Let go, you oaf!” the other boy protests, squirming in Chanyeol’s tight grasp. Even from behind, Chanyeol can see the way his cheeks plump up in a rounded curve, a tell-tale sign that he’s smiling. For a moment, Chanyeol debates keeping him in this hold for longer, but he would never deprive himself of seeing the other's smile. He drops his arm and shifts an inch backwards, allowing just enough room for the smaller boy to turn around and face him.

Kyungsoo glares up at Chanyeol, their height difference pronounced even when sitting. He can't tell if the other boy is glaring out of faux annoyance or if it's because of his poor eyesight—("Why don't you wear your glasses?" Chanyeol asks. His father brought home glasses for Kyungsoo once, but Kyungsoo always shakes his head and says they feel weird and that he's not used to having something on his face)—but the sight of him all puffy-cheeked and childishly pouting is so horribly endearing to Chanyeol that he wishes he could squish Kyungsoo between his arms again.

He almost does it too, and is in the midst of enveloping his arms around Kyungsoo when the smaller boy slaps his arm with a huff. 

"Where were you? Your dad was looking for you in the morning," asks Kyungsoo. He folds his arm across his chest in displeasure, but Chanyeol knows he can never stay annoyed at him for too long. 

Chanyeol shrugs, an enigmatic smile toying around on his face. "Around," he says. He doesn't say that he was visiting the coastline out of a misplaced sense of challenge to himself.

And maybe Kyungsoo reads between the lines, because his face softens until he's staring at Chanyeol with something akin to pity. His best friend pats him on the arm, and says nothing else. 

"Where's mom and dad?" Chanyeol asks abruptly. His mom is usually asleep during the day, due to the demands of her job. In contrast, his father runs the restaurant and manages the household errands throughout the day, although he's been able to take a step back ever since Kyungsoo started helping out the Park household with those tasks. 

"Your dad is having tea with Mr. Shin at their place," Kyungsoo answers, turning away to pack up the kimchi radish again. "Your mom is still sleeping. She came in pretty late, your dad said."

He must have missed his mom coming in during the late morning. Chanyeol had left the house early that morning to cycle along the coast, and hadn't been around by the time Kyungsoo and Chanyeol's father opened up shop as well. 

"Did she have a big haul?" Chanyeol stands up, helping Kyungsoo pick up the array of pickled vegetables scattered along the table top. Together, they put them away in the kitchen. Old Yoogeun is still dawdling in the hall, but it's not atypical in a village as small as theirs. 

Kyungsoo nods in response. He rises up on his tiptoes to organize the top shelf of the fridge, clinging onto the door to stabilize his balance. Chanyeol watches for a few seconds before he takes over, crowding behind the shorter boy and grabbing the tupperware out of his hands to place them further back on the shelf. This close together, he can smell the seabreeze scent that seems to stick to Kyungsoo's skin permanently. His heartbeat quickens at their proximity, and he fights down a burning blush that threatens to spread across his skin. 

"Your dad said she harvested a lot of abalone and sea urchin this time." Chanyeol's stomach grumbles at the thought. Even after eating seafood all his life, he never gets tired of it. "We'll need to help her with selling them at the wet market on Saturday."

"Why doesn't my dad tell me these things?" Chanyeol asks, jokingly. He still has Kyungsoo pressed against the open fridge door, but the smaller boy doesn't seem to be in any haste to move away. So he doesn't. 

"Maybe you should help us out more instead of riding around on your bike." Kyungsoo flicks him on the forehead lightly, going back up on the tip of his toes to do so. Chanyeol resists the urge to pinch his nose in retaliation. 

Instead, Chanyeol backs up from the fridge, letting Kyungsoo shut the door. He busies himself with cleaning up some of the stray dishes, knowing the other boy will nag him for not helping his parents more with household chores.

"Maybe you should hang out with me more," Chanyeol finally says. He means to say it lightly, but there's a grain of truth to his words. 

They haven't had much time to hang out lately, what with how busy Kyungsoo has become with helping Chanyeol's family with their business. Of course, Chanyeol does help as much as he can too, but it's not the same as when it felt like they had all the time in the world to spend together and Kyungsoo would climb onto the back of Chanyeol's bike and cling to his still-growing shoulders as Chanyeol pedaled them around the winding alleys and crevices of the village. It feels like they haven't had much quality time together lately, between work and errands and school. 

A small hand squeezes at his waist, and Chanyeol jumps. "Maybe I should," Kyungsoo says. His voice is soft, as is his touch. He's always soft with Chanyeol. "Let's do something tonight. After the restaurant is closed down?"

The taller boy finds the gentle hand on his waist, twisting their fingers together. He squeezes back. "Yeah. Sounds good."

Behind them, Chanyeol hears the sound of the wooden door sliding open, and the signature heavy footfalls of his father. 

"Oh, Chanyeol! You're back!" he says, clapping both him and Kyungsoo on the shoulder. The smaller boy buckles slightly under the force of his hand, and Chanyeol stifles a chuckle. Kyungsoo shoots another wet-kitten glare at him. "You should be more like Kyungsoo! He's been here all day helping your old man out."

"Yeah, yeah," Chanyeol says, but there's no resentment behind it. He's grateful for Kyungsoo's presence in their lives. He's always has been. Their hands are still entangled. "Guess that just means Kyungsoo has to stay with us forever, then."

"Hah!" Chanyeol's dad laughs. "You know we would love nothing more!"

Beside him, Kyungsoo smiles. The fondness in his expression runs deep, but as it always is when Chanyeol starts talking about family and home and _forever_ , there's a note of sadness in the corner of his eyes and in the furrow of his brows. 

His smaller fingers squeeze at Chanyeol's palm once more. "I would love that too," he promises.

* * *

Chanyeol is afraid of water. 

His heart pounds when he gets within a few feet of large bodies of waters, when the current feels uncontrollable and the waves are rough enough to batter and pull you around unbidden. It's a fear that has long, long sunk its teeth into him, like jagged fangs biting into his soft flesh, tearing him up when he's faced with the murky depths.

He knows it's silly. Shameful, even—a disgrace on his prideful home, and a mar on his long line of familial history with the _Haenyo_.

Against the backdrop of a male-dominated, patriarchal history that erases the agency of women, the _Haenyo_ shines bright as a testament to the independence, iron will, and courage of women divers in the province of Jeju. The tradition goes back as far as the 5th century, marking the historically momentous role of women in diving into frigid, dangerous seas for long periods of time without any equipment, and harvesting abalone, sea urchin, and oysters for their families. 

Growing up on Seodo, an island in the Jeju Strait, Chanyeol is no stranger to the legends of the _Haenyo_. They were more than legends there—it was a revered profession steeped in years of ancestry and intangible cultural heritage. And even moreso, it was in Chanyeol’s blood.

For as long as he could remember, Chanyeol’s mother has been one of the _Haenyo_. Just like her mother, and her mother’s mother, and all the other matriarchs that came before her. His first memory of his mother was the sight of her strapping the jade green net to the back of her wetsuit like a superhero's cape, goggles placed high on her forehead as she opened the door to the misty early morning sky, She kissed Chanyeol’s forehead in goodbye, and telling him she would be back soon with treasures. He remembers how desperately he wanted to follow her out to sea back then, before he became afraid. She has always been her hero. Even now, as she is entering her 70s, she remains steadfast in free diving into the treacherous, rocky seas that surround their little island.

As her schedule starts early in the morning, before the sun has even risen, Chanyeol’s father had naturally assumed the task of childrearing and maintaining the household. Running a restaurant out of their home was a suggestion by his mother, who knows how much cooking is a passion project of Chanyeol’s father—an aptitude and joy that has passed onto Kyungsoo. As his filial son, Chanyeol has always been tasked with helping out at home and at the restaurant. But it was always Kyungsoo who would pepper Chanyeol’s father with questions on the _whys_ and _hows_ of cooking. And while the restaurant provides a nice, supplementary income, the bulk of their livelihood still depends on his mother and her harvests. 

The fear didn't settle in until Chanyeol was 6, or maybe 7 years old. It was before Kyungsoo came into his life—a rare window in his life. 

When Chanyeol was young, he was a rambunctious, excitable child. His mother's diving ventures, to him, seemed like the ultimate adventure. In his mind, she was diving into an entirely different world filled with unknown treasures, just waiting to be explored. He desperately wished he could emulate her bravery, that he could join her in these grand adventures.

One day, he decided to make it happen. Unbeknownst to his parents, he waited for the tell-tale kiss that his mother would press against his tiny forehead before she set out for sea. After the door slid close behind her, he snuck out after her. She never noticed, too preoccupied with making sure her gear was in place and chatting with the other _Haenyo_ preparing for a free dive. 

At first, he only watched them from afar. He watched as they strapped their equipment to their wetsuits—weights, goggles, a net, not much else—and he watched as they sucked in deep, great breaths. He watched as they broke through the surface of the sea, clutching onto the rocky cliffside face in amazement. Even after a full minute, and then two, there was no sign of the _Haenyo_ resurfacing. 

"They must be real superheroes," Chanyeol had thought. He couldn't understand how they could do it. With that in mind, he crept closer. Slowly at first, just until he was peering over the edge of the rocky pier the women use to jump from. But then his foot, clad only in a cheap pair of sandals, slipped on a loosened pebble from the ground.

He remembers this part in slow motion, the sensation of his small body losing balance, pitching forward towards the pitch dark water. He remembers plunging through the icy surface and into the frigid waves. He remembers the way he struggled, his tiny limbs fighting uselessly against the current as it carried him away from shore. The burning in his lungs, water entering his airways, feeling like he couldn't breathe. In that moment, Chanyeol always remembers thinking _I'm going to die_. And after that—darkness.

When Chanyeol came to consciousness, he was swaddled warmly in a cot at the back of Kim Junho's hanok, the quack doctor of their village. His father was holding one hand, and his mother holding the other. They were both crying. 

"We thought we lost you," his mother had sobbed. Her wetsuit was piled on the wooden floor next to her, goggles still on her forehead. "We thought you drowned. That it was too late."

Later, when Chanyeol had recovered enough and could talk without his throat burning like there were a thousand glass shards embedded in his esophagus, he asked he survived.

"One of the women saw you and pulled you up to shore," his mother would respond. There was a terseness to her voice, an edge of anxiety. Chanyeol assumed it was out of the lingering fear of nearly coming home to see her only child dead.

Sometimes, in his dreams, he thinks he remembers a hand on his back, wrapped around his chest as it carried him upwards. The hand always feels impossibly small, even smaller than his 6 year old body. In other dreams, he recalls the soft tickle of hair on his cheek, a quiet, child-like voice murmuring something to him in vowels and syllables that sound strangely garbled. But those are just dreams.

After that day, Chanyeol had never been able to go too close to the sea again. Where the other kids on Seodo grew up diving off the cliffs and splashing in the waters, Chanyeol stayed as close in-land as possible—often placing himself as the butt of their jokes. The wimpy, useless child of a fearless _Haenyo_. 

It didn't matter. Shortly after that incident, Kyungsoo appeared in their village. It was so long ago, his memories are too hazy to remember how he showed up and when he did. All Chanyeol knows is that one day he wasn’t a part of their village, and another day—he was. He lived with Kim Minsu, an elderly woman who was the head of the village at that time. 

"Be nice to him," his father told him after the first time he saw the little boy with wide, round eyes wandering around the market. "He has no family."

"Then why does he live with Mrs. Kim? And why does he look so weird?"

"Minsu took him in. She said she will raise him. You know her own kids left for the city long ago, leaving her alone. She said she misses the company." 

Chanyeol found this confusing as he watched the scared little boy stumble around. He was clinging tightly to Mrs. Kim’s hand, as if it was the only thing holding him up. “Why does he have no family?”

His father only smiled sadly, but did not answer. “You should be his friend, Chanyeol-ah. I think he would appreciate it.”

Chanyeol had shrugged, and then promptly walked up to the other boy and declared him his new friend. Kyungsoo had looked at him with his trembling, fearful eyes, and said nothing. But the older boy had never been anything less than aggressively friendly, and soon, the two were never seen without each other. Eventually, Kyungsoo stopped looking so afraid around him, and grew accustomed to life on Seodo.

When Chanyeol thinks backs towards his childhood, Kyungsoo is always right there next to him in his memories.

* * *

"Do you ever think about trying to find your family again?" Chanyeol asks later that day, after they had closed down the restaurant and his father had kindly but firmly chased Shin Yoogeun back to his own home. A waffle cone is stacked high with Strawberry Mint, melting in his hand. They're at the ice cream shop that only opens up in the summer when the sun is hot and blazing high in the sky. 

Unlike Chanyeol’s family restaurant, which operates directly from their own home, the ice cream shop sits out near the only boardwalk they have in the village. They had to walk down a steep set of stairs from the main village down to the beach, which left them both sweaty and tired. It’s a rickety old shack, clearly fashioned after American diners that appear in Hollywood films. Rumour has it that it was originally part of a naval base, built during the late 1800s when the British had occupied the land. Now, it’s retro-styled with a checkered floorboard and pink-accented furniture and neon signs that no longer work. 

There’s a teenage boy behind the counter who looks out of place. His name tag, neatly pressed against his frilly apron, reads _Kim Junmyeon_. Junmyeon is the kid of Kim Junho, the quack doctor that helped save Chanyeol’s life when he was younger, and he ineffectively wipes at the counter now as he pretends he’s not listening into his and Kyungsoo’s conversation. It doesn’t matter—it’s a small town, there are no secrets.

“Dunno,” Kyungsoo replies. His tongue follows the path of his dripping ice cream, leaking all over his hands, and licks it back up. Chanyeol swallows thickly and has to avert his eyes for a moment. “How would I be able to find them?”

Chanyeol doesn’t know. 

When they were younger, a few years after Chanyeol had first seen Kyungsoo at the market and after they had long became proclaimed best friends forever, he had asked Kyungsoo what happened to his family. All he knew was that Kyungsoo was originally from somewhere on Jeju Island, or that was what he had been told.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kyungsoo had said, his chubby cheeks puffing up the way it does when he’s uncomfortable. But then he deflated and whispered to Chanyeol, “I don’t know what happened to them. Where they are.”

The disappearance of Kyungsoo’s family and the subsequent appearance of Kyungsoo on this island never made much sense to Chanyeol. Sometimes he gets the feeling that Kyungsoo knows more than he’s willing to let on, and that his parents do too. It’s in the way Kyungsoo shifts his eyes away from the taller boy, and the way his parents uneasily smile while brushing off his questions. 

At the ice cream parlour, Chanyeol presses on. “But do you want to find them?” he asks.

The interior of the rickety old hut, with its windows glaring open and shades drawn to let in the light, is unpleasantly warm. Chanyeol leans back in his seat, listens to the way the vinyl cracks and groans under his weight, and watches his best friend. In the lull of their conversation, he can make out the gentle hum of the refrigerating appliances, and the ebb and flow of the waves outside. 

After a few seconds, Kyungsoo sighs. “I do,” he confesses. His voice is quiet, but not quiet enough that Kim Junmyeon doesn’t hear. Chanyeol can tell because the older boy pauses in his wiping, letting the rag drip dirty water all over the countertops. 

The taller boy bounces upright excitedly, the vinyl seat protesting from the sudden movement. “Let’s do it!” he says. Kyungsoo so rarely talks about what it is that _he_ wants to do, and Chanyeol would do anything to make it happen. “I want to help! How can I help?”

Kyungsoo takes his time to respond. It’s okay. Chanyeol’s used to it, the way the small boy sometimes needs a few moments to gather his thoughts together, letting his brows adorably furrow in the way that makes Chanyeol want to press a kiss to the space between his bushy eyebrows. “I,” the smaller boy starts, and then hesitates. He glances at Chanyeol, whose eyes are sparkling at him in excitement, and looks down at his half-finished ice cream. “I would have to go to Jeju, I think.”

“Oh,” is all Chanyeol says, deflating slightly. That means Kyungsoo would need to take at least one ferry—from the Geomundo port to Yeosu, and then from Yeosu to Jeju Island, either by way of a second ferry or by plane. Traveling across the vast sea by ferry has been, up until this point, out of the question for Chanyeol. It’s why he has never left the island. 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo says. He balls up the remnants of his soggy ice cream cone in his napkin, pushing it around the table. “That’s why I don’t know if I’ll go. I don’t want to leave without you.”

Even as Chanyeol feels his heart warming at his best friend’s heartfelt words, there’s a sinking feeling in his chest. He hates this. That his own fears could be a burden not only to himself, but to one of the most important people in his life.

“You should just go without me,” Chanyeol says. He musters up a smile, a wide, toothy one that he knows makes him look a little bit manic with his too-big ears. Kyungsoo doesn’t look convinced, the worried expression on his face doesn’t go away. “I mean, you’ll be back, right?” he asks, sounding desperate even to his own ears.

“I won’t go without you,” Kyungsoo says again. “I’m serious, Chanyeollie.”

Behind the counter, Junmyeon accidentally drops his cup on the ground, the plastic landing with a hard _thwack_ that startles Chanyeol. “Sorry,” he calls out, before hurriedly scurrying to the back. They both ignore him.

The smaller boy’s face is set in determination. The little furrow between his brows is back again, as is a slight downturn in his plump lips. Even like this, when something strange and tense is passing between them, Chanyeol thinks he’s the most beautiful boy in the world. A few moments pass, Chanyeol studying Kyungsoo’s face. Sometimes, he feels like he’s so in love with the other boy, his heart will burst out of his chest. 

And that’s why he would never let himself be the thing that holds Kyungsoo back from finding his family. 

Abruptly, the smaller boy gets up. “I’m done,” he announces, gathering up both of their dirty napkins from the scratched table and tossing them into the bin. He bows low and deep to Junmyeon, who comes out to wave goodbye at them. “Let’s go.”

Chanyeol quickly goes to say goodbye to Junmyeon, having a brief conversation about how his family is doing, before obediently following Kyungsoo outside. He yells a final _thank you_ as he kicks open the door. The smaller boy is waiting for him on the boardwalk, gazing out towards the sea. There’s a contemplative look on his face. Chanyeol’s mouth goes dry when the other boy shuts his eyes, face turned towards the sun and water, almost as if in bliss. 

The tide is low today, exposing the eroded, damp rock faces that sweep in a wide arc around the edge of the island. The bubbling sea foam ebbs along the shoreline. They’re still far enough from the water that Chanyeol feels okay, that he can distantly appreciate the water and its glittering, jewel-like surface. But even more so, he admires the way Kyungsoo’s tanned complexion seems to glow golden under the setting sky. It’s late evening now, and the sun grazes against the horizon at half-mast, a burnt orange spilling across the deep blues of the water in perfect complement.

“Ready?” Kyungsoo asks. He’s looking at Chanyeol now, holding out a hand for him to take. It’s moments like these that has Chanyeol wondering if maybe, just maybe, his best friend returns his feelings—but the chances of that being possible in this small, podunk village feels impossible. 

Nevertheless, he takes Kyungsoo’s hand in his. His hand feels small and slender in his palm, but it’s warm and soft. Together, they walk back towards the ramshackle set of stairs—wooden boards slated together into a sorry excuse of steps. The beach here is small, not quite sandy as it is rocky with the occasional shellfish that has washed ashore and become a fixture of the beach. 

By the time they reach the top of the stairs, they’re both huffing and panting slightly. Chanyeol finally unwraps his hand from Kyungsoo’s to wipe at the sweat rolling down the back of his neck. It doesn’t do much, so he tugs his shirt off. Next to him, Kyungsoo is red—from the exertion, most likely, but Chanyeol can dream and think it’s because of him. 

His bike is right where he left it, leaning against the wooden fence at the top of the stairs. He and Kyungsoo had walked it here when they left his house. It’s unlocked, but no one would be stupid or cruel enough to steal his bike in such a small village. 

“Wanna come back to my place?” Kyungsoo asks. His eyes are trained somewhere below Chanyeol’s neck, and his cheeks are delightfully rosy. Chanyeol feels his heartbeat double, no, triple. He heats up under his gaze. Not sexually, just in the way his best friend leaves him flustered sometimes.

“Sounds good,” he answers honestly. And then he grins, cocking his head toward his bike. “Wanna ride together just like old times?” He pictures them cycling through the narrow, winding alleys of the village back towards Kyungsoo’s house, the smaller boy clinging to his broadened shoulders as they whip through the rows of _hanoks_. They’re both bigger now, moreso Chanyeol than Kyungsoo, the latter having stopped growing when they were around 15 or so. It probably wouldn’t work, but it would be fun to try.

“Don’t be an idiot!” Kyungsoo jabs him in the stomach with his elbow. Chanyeol winces, and reaches over to ruffle the shorter boy’s hair in retaliation. He squirms under Chanyeol’s touch, and wiggles away with a small pout. 

“What if you gave me a bruise?” Chanyeol retorts in mock sadness. “My poor, peach-like skin!”

Kyungsoo interrupts his lamenting with a snort. “You’ll be fine, big boy.” He reaches over and strokes soothingly at Chanyeol’s stomach, right where he had jabbed. His fingers are slight and cool against his bare skin. The touch is electrifying, and he shivers against his will. He almost sighs when Kyungsoo pulls away. “A-Anyway, let’s go. It’s getting late.” The shorter boy sets off without another word, his ears burning red.

Like always, like the tide pulling helplessly towards the moon, Chanyeol follows close behind.

* * *

Kyungsoo’s home isn’t far from the small beach. It’s on the other side of the village from Chanyeol’s, who’s located more towards the epicentre of the village. Having been the previous home of Elder Kim Minsu, Kyungsoo’s expansive _hanok_ exists towards the north with a breathtaking view of the sea in the front-facing windows. The tangy sea scent of Jeju Strait is strongest here, Chanyeol finds, but it has become a welcome smell after all the years of associating it with Kyungsoo. 

The iced water he had been guzzling down all day in a poor attempt to stave off the heat is catching up to him now, and he immediately rushes to the washroom as soon as the smaller boy slides open the door. When he’s finished his business, he heads back towards the kitchen, where he finds Kyungsoo. The other boy is staring out the window towards the sea. A breeze ruffles through the shorter boy’s dark locks, and Chanyeol finds himself mesmerized with the way the wash of pinks and golds from the sunset seem to shine onto him. 

Not wanting to disturb his peace, Chanyeol slowly creeps up behind him. He thinks that maybe he can make out the figure of Kim Jongdae and his brother, Minseok, out on a boat, but that doesn’t seem to be what is drawing Kyungsoo’s attention. 

There are times where Chanyeol finds him like this—seemingly lost, adrift. It has only become more frequent now that they’re older, and Kyungsoo lives all alone in the old, massive home he inherited from Kim Minsu after she had passed away a couple of years ago. He thinks that maybe the water provides solace for the smaller boy in a way he only wishes he could understand. 

For all the time they spend together, Kyungsoo has been known to disappear for hours to days at a time. It’s even worse during the summer months, when the storming seas become frequent and the humid air seems to invigorate the waves in ways that frighten Chanyeol the most. When the thunderous waves bash against the rocks and the sky is heavy and grey—that’s when he knows Kyungsoo will be nowhere to be found. 

When he asks about it, the other boy always simply answers, “just by the water.” Chanyeol doesn’t doubt him on this. He recalls all the times when Kyungsoo had seemed more tense than usual, more withdrawn, more wound up. Like all the worries and anxieties and burdens bouncing around in his little head have been piling on him, weighing him down like layers of sediment. Sometimes, Chanyeol has been enough to get him out of the funk. More often, it’s when he comes back from coastline that he seems lighter. More free.

He slides across the narrow expanse of Kyungsoo’s back until his hand settles on the boy’s shoulder. Underneath his palm, the muscles are bunched and tense. He kneads into the muscles, feeling them unwind. A soft sigh. He lets Kyungsoo lean on him, his smaller figure sagging into his.

“You okay?” he asks. He doesn’t know what goes on in Kyungsoo’s busy mind in times like these, but he can guess what triggered it this time—their conversation about his family.

“I’m good,” Kyungsoo responds, like he always does. But he doesn’t shift away from Chanyeol, and the warmth from his skin is welcoming.

“I’m serious, you know.” Chanyeol’s thumb strokes slow circles over Kyungsoo’s shoulder. The smaller boy relaxes a fraction more at the touch, and he keeps it up. “Don’t let me drag you down, just because I’m an idiot who’s scared of water because of a dumb mistake I made as a child. I want you to find your family, if you want to.”

He knows that despite Chanyeol’s parents taking him in like their own, particularly after Mrs. Kim had passed away, it’s still not the same for Kyungsoo, whose own history is obfuscated with gaps and silences. 

Kyungsoo turns until he’s facing Chanyeol, his front pressed up against the taller boy’s side. This close together, the shorter boy has to crane his face up to meet Chanyeol’s eyes. He looks lovely like this, and a sharp want aches in his bones; a desire to lean down and press his lips against the other’s.

“I don’t want to go anywhere without you,” whispers Kyungsoo. Pressed so tightly against him, Chanyeol’s heart can’t help but race a little harder. Kyungsoo slots perfectly against him, like they were made to fit together. His eyes flit down towards the other boy’s lips, plump and perfectly pink, before roaming back up towards Kyungsoo’s eyes. His expression is unreadable, but when Kyungsoo fits one hand around Chanyeol’s waist, his stomach flutters in nervousness and excitement. 

He feels both thankful and regretful when the smaller boy suddenly moves away from him. He doesn’t know what he would have done if he didn’t—probably would have tried to kiss him like the fool he is, or something. His side feels bereft, cold. Kyungsoo is rubbing his ear awkwardly, round cheeks rosy and glowing, clearing his throat as he looks back out the window once more. The sky is a deep indigo hue now. “I’m serious, too. I’m not leaving you,” Kyungsoo says, at last. 

Still, even now that the electrified moment has come and gone, Chanyeol’s heart does a little flip in his chest. He loves Kyungsoo, so much sometimes that it feels just like he’s pressing on a bruise. And as much as he wishes they could stay here like this, just the two of them in the cozy warmth of Kyungsoo’s inherited home, he knows that this tiny village amongst the sea-battered cliffs and salt spray won’t always be enough for him. 

His mind lingers on this thought as he lays in bed that night, long after he cycled home from Kyungsoo’s place. Before he succumbs to sleep, Chanyeol makes up his mind. If Kyungsoo refuses to leave without him, then Chanyeol will just need to learn how to leave _with_ him. 

Even if it means going out to the sea.

* * *

That night, Chanyeol dreams of a haunting song of foreign language, the rush of water, and the caress of warm hands.

* * *

Chanyeol’s bike hurtles past an old, crumbled sign that once proudly announced the land as _Port Hamilton_ , and then scribbled over in Japanese characters. A lasting palimpsest of the stolen lands of Geomundo. It’s incredible, to Chanyeol, the layers of history that exist in this tiny village of his. He wonders what it must be like for Kyungsoo, who doesn’t have the same sense of belonging in this space like Chanyeol does.

The wind whips through the lanky boy’s hair as he pedals along the empty stretch of highway. It’s a similar route he had taken a week ago, the morning before him and Kyungsoo went for ice cream at the Kim’s ice cream parlour. The sun hangs low in the overcast sky, but it’s still early enough in the morning that it has yet to feel muggy and unbearable. Unlike the week before, the breeze coming in from the majestic coastline is chilling. It smells like it’s about to rain, but the weather forecast promised a dry day. 

He slows down as he comes closer to his destination, taking in the unfolding beauty of the blue-green expanse of the sea chasing along the majestic cliffs, signs of age and erosion in the rise and fall of the water. His palms are sweaty, and his heart is thunderous in his chest. 

Chanyeol pulls into a small path away from the paved road. A pebble gets caught in his stokes and he loses balance, falling onto the gravel with a wince. Thankfully, he’s no worse for wear and his bike seems to have survived the fall just fine. He’s more grateful that he’s alone, that no one was there to witness his fall. 

As he draws closer to the coast, Chanyeol decides to walk the rest of the way there. His feet drag along the gravel, almost as if stalling. He makes his way through the emerald green foliage, stumbling downhill, until he reaches the beginning of the beach. 

Unlike the boardwalk from yesterday, the beach here is a small, narrow strip of white sand. Located on the furthest edge of civilization on the southern tip of the island—about a half-hour bike ride away from the village—the beach is deserted. Despite being sandier, it’s one of the less common spots for the villagers due to its narrow size. Most of the other beaches located around the coastline rise gradually into a cliff, making for the best diving or scenic picnic spots. Here, though, the cliffs surround the sands as a sharp, jagged wall that was carved out by a landslide a decade ago. 

Towards Chanyeol’s right is a rocky outcropping of land, located only a few feet away from the tideline. There’s a small, wooden boat propped up against the rocks. Right where Chanyeol had left it a few days ago, dragging it from the Kim brothers’ house with their permission. Minseok had worriedly asked him to return it in good condition while Jongdae merely shrugged, easygoing as always. He walks towards it now, grimacing as the feeling of sand skidding between his toes. 

His heart thumps harder in his chest, a thrum of anxiety humming in his chest with every step he takes towards the boat. This is the closest he has ever been to the water in years.

Ever since his conversation with Kyungsoo last week, there has been a niggling feeling in his mind—that he needs to _overcome_. If he wants to help Kyungsoo find his family, if he doesn't want to be the anchor weighing him down and tying ashore to Seodo, then Chanyeol needs to figure out a way to breach his fears.

At first, he considered a slow desensitization by swimming. It took a couple of days before frustration set in, every attempt found himself frozen on shore, unable to take the step closer to properly submerge himself in the sea. If only he could stay _out_ of the water, then maybe he could do it...

Determined, and perhaps utterly foolish, Chanyeol decided to borrow a small canoe from the Kim's brothers. He's set on doing this, if not for Kyungsoo, then for himself—and as long as he doesn't fall into the waters, then he should be fine.

Or at least he hopes.

When he's finally inches away from the wooden canoe, Chanyeol takes a deep, shuddering breath and exhales, feeling the wind woosh through him. It doesn't feel too helpful, the air too muggy and humid to feel breathable. With a deep sigh, he heaves the canoe away from the outcropping and lets it fall onto the sand. He's close enough to the water now that the sand underneath his sandals is damp. 

His toe nudges against the wooden belly. The lull of the waves are a dull roar in his ears, nothing compared to the sound of his own heart trying to beat out of his chest. He needs to do this. He needs to challenge himself. Just prove that he will be _fine_ in the water. 

For a moment, he wishes he had Kyungsoo here with him. The other boy wouldn’t tease him, he knows that. If anything, Kyungsoo would be right there next to him, clasping tightly on his hand, telling him it’s okay if he can’t do it. But the burn of embarrassment resulting from the fact that he still struggles so hard against his fear of water had, eventually, beat out the desire to have his friend with him. And so he set out alone, early in the morning before Kyungsoo was due to head over to his father’s restaurant. 

Chanyeol takes a deep breath as he takes hold of the canoe and begins dragging it towards the water. He picks up the oar in his other hand. His anxiety is so palpable, it feels as though there’s a thick lump stuck in his throat, choking off his breath. The oar slips from the damp sweat of his palms, and he tightens his grip on the wooden handle to the point of pain. 

He stops right at the tideline. Shuddering when he feels the cold water lapping at his exposed toes, Chanyeol closes his eyes. It doesn’t help quell his nerves. The faint images, remnants of his hazy memory—the sensation of choking on saltwater, the heaviness of his body as he sank, the helplessness—dizzily fill his head. 

One. Two. Three. Four. 

Chanyeol sucks in another breath, wrestling away with those images. His heart rate is a staccato beat now, pounding furiously against his ribcage. He thinks of Kyungsoo, of leaving with him to a bigger city and seeing the sights that he has only seen on his father’s favourite TV dramas—exploring alleyways in Seoul filled with boutiques and knick knacks, gorging themselves on street food at Daegu’s famous night market, hiking up Jeju’s Sunrise Peak and catching the last rays of sunshine—and his heart flips. 

He needs to do this. 

With his breath heavy with adrenaline, Chanyeol finally forces his feet to move. He picks them up, sets them down, each inch, every movement has him feeling like a machine that needs a good oiling. His footfalls are heavy, reluctant—but persistent. Eventually he has pushed the boat far enough into the water that it no longer sits only in the sand. The shockingly cold water submerges his feet entirely, and he shudders at the sensation, but he’s not yet far in enough that he feels unmoored. 

Just like he has seen Jongdae and Minseok done many, many times, just like he has seen his own mother done, Chanyeol bends his knees and crouches directly in front of the canoe. Pulling his legs in one by one, he pulls himself into the centre of the canoe. The movement isn’t as gracious or practiced as he envisioned, and the wooden boat rocks precariously as he stumbles his way into the centre. Yelping, Chanyeol clings to the edges, clenching his eyes shut until it stabilizes. 

For a moment, Chanyeol just sits. His heart is still flipping wildly in his chest, but slowly, he acclimatizes to the stillness of the waters and the gentle rocking of the canoe. Grasping at the oars, Chanyeol slowly begins to row. His goal is to paddle around the bay to the next beach, and then to undock there and call it a day. He knows his limits, and while he already feels like he’s far beyond them—he doesn’t want to throw himself into a full blown panic attack either. 

Rowing is harder than it looks. The further he gets away from the shore, the more terrified Chanyeol becomes. The sight of the vast expanse of sea, seemingly endless and haunting, makes him tremble. There are moments when the wind picks up, and with it, the waves—but it dies down just a quickly as it starts. At this point, it’s too late for him to turn back, no matter desperately he wishes to be grounded again. 

Halfway out to the closest beach to him, Chanyeol has no choice but to pause to rest his tired arms. The shore is in sight now, and he huffs out a sigh of relief. Rowing out a short distance in the canoe sounded like a splendid idea this entire week, a foolproof challenge to himself that he could test the waters. Now that he’s stuck in the boat, with his arms aching and palms blistered from how tightly he gripped the wooden oars, he feels like an idiot. There must have been a better way to overcome his own fears than _this_. 

Chanyeol watches the waves break over the rocks. From his distance, the village isn’t visible at all, but the foliage is familiar and calming. A sleepy fog has creeped in, obscuring the shore from his view. Seagulls cry overhead, and he observes the way they fly in dizzying circles in a widening gyre into stormy, grey clouds. The wind picks up suddenly, and he clutches at the yoke in surprise as a gust blows past him. His heart leaps in his chest as he waits out the sudden winds, the canoe rocking noticeably in the waters. It feels like a life time before wind dies down and the waters still once more. 

Then, suddenly, a faint sound becomes audible as Chanyeol reluctantly relaxes his grip on the yoke, and he strains to discern the noise. To his surprise, it sounds like a melody. Still too faint to make out fully, he cocks his head in curiosity. It must be coming from the beach, and he squints his eyes to see if he can make anything out from the fog—but he sees nothing. Then, the melody stops.

Must be one of the fishermen, he thinks.

With a heavy sigh, Chanyeol wills himself to pick up the oars again and restart his journey back to shore. The waters seemed to have calm down, and he wants to take advantage of the stillness. His muscles scream in protest with every movement, and he knows he’s going to wake up sore tomorrow. But he ignores it. At this point, he just wants to be safely back on his two feet.

As he rows closer towards the shrouded beach, a droplet of water lands on Chanyeol’s face, startling him. Then another, and another. Cold drops of rain break out from the stormy clouds above, instantly soaking Chanyeol’s shirt to his skin, the shock of the water leaving him alarmed and stricken. Panic wells in his chest, and he whipped his head towards the sky. To his growing consternation, the clouds look ominous, dark and moody—a sure sign of a coming storm. 

Amidst his panic, the melody picks up again. This time, it’s more audible. It’s a voice; someone singing. Something niggles in the corner of his brain, something familiar, but before he can linger on it, his attention latches onto the singing itself. 

A hauntingly beautiful melody washes over him, the tone smooth and honeyed, seemingly at odds with the rapidly swelling weather. For a second, Chanyeol forgets that he needs to be getting to shore _now_ , as he takes in the singing. There are words—garbled syllables that don’t sound like any dialect of Korean on the peninsula—and he wonders what they’re saying. 

Then, a loud _plop_ catches his attention, snapping Chanyeol out of his reverie. A stronger wave crashes into the canoe, rocking it precariously, and he yelps in fear, once again clinging to the sides of the boat. Abruptly, a rock the size of a child’s fist sails through the air, seemingly coming from the fog, and lands in the water near the canoe with another _plop_. It makes no sense to Chanyeol; even though the beach is in sight, he still sits at a distance that no one would have a strong enough throw to reach him with pebbles. But he doesn’t let himself dwell, entirely too focused on getting to safety.

The rain begins to fall harder, and the swells of the waves begin to rise. With every ounce of strength in his body, Chanyeol fights against his spiking horror and fear and the burn in his muscles and begins rowing towards the shore at a speed he wasn’t aware he was capable of. As if it were like a siren’s song, Chanyeol chases after the honeyed voice in the direction of land. All that is running through his head is that _he needs to get to safety, he needs to get out of there, he needs to get on land_. 

The song gets louder. He’s heard this song before—he’s sure of it. The voice feels intimately familiar, even as the lyrics and language continue to evade him. He shakes his head. He needs to focus. Just as the fog begins to dissipate and he can faintly make out the sandy beaches, another rough wave crashed against the boat, rocking it hard enough that Chanyeol falls off his seat. Letting out a scream, his heart flips wildly in his chest as his breath quickens. Images of falling off the boat and into the water crowd his mind, and he desperately clings to the centre of the canoe.

He’s still far enough from shore that there’s no way he would be able to touch the seafloor.

The wind whipped at his hair, the icy rain stinging his eyes even as the song swells into a crescendo, roaring even louder in his ears than the wind. A hail of stones follow with each word. Another wave crashes into the boat, and Chanyeol skids from the centre to the bow.

“Help!” he screams, his hands scrabbling to clutch at the canoe. “ _Help!_ ”

Just as abruptly as it began, the song cuts off mid-syllable. All Chanyeol could hear now his own frantic, heightened breathing and the flurry of wind and water surrounding him. “Is someone there?” he calls out again, his voice breaking on the last word. “Help me, _please!_! I-I can’t _swim_!”

The fog clears some more, enough that Chanyeol could just barely make out a small figure on the shore. Someone is standing on the tideline, stock-still at first, and then suddenly, jolting as if they had been electrocuted. The rain obscures his vision, and he shakes his head once, and then twice to clear it. The figure is leaning towards the water now, waving his arms in the air. Chanyeol thinks the figure is shouting something, but it gets lost in the roar of the wind. He looks familiar, in the same way the voice felt familiar.

Thunder rolls in the sky, shaking Chanyeol to his core. He trembles.

Just as he feels his breath quicken to the point of hyperventilation, the voice of the figure on the beach is suddenly audible. “—anyeol! _Chanyeol_!” 

The fog dissipates completely, revealing Kyungsoo as the figure on the beach. Confusion flits through Chanyeol at the sight of his best friend—what is he doing there? Why is he singing?

His best friend’s hair is plastered wetly to his tanned face, clothes matted to his body as he shouts towards Chanyeol. A look of fear and shock has settled on his face, a jarring contrast to his normally calm expression. His eyes are wide, and his mouth is open as he screams. 

A flutter of hope springs up in Chanyeol, that maybe he won’t drown if Kyungsoo is there, even if there’s no way Kyungsoo would be able to swim out to him in time—but it vanishes as cold water slams into his body. He loses grip on the bow of the canoe as it keels dangerously to its side.

“ _No!_ ” he hears Kyungsoo yell, a broken-off, pained syllable, just as he slips into the cold, treacherous waters. His limbs flail out as he fights against the current. Yet another wave bears down on top of him, crashing over his head, and he feels his body sink into the freezing sea. His legs kick out wildly, desperately, trying to break the surface as his heart does somersaults in his chest, fear sinking its claws into his body. But he’s too weak, and no matter how hard he kicks, he can feel himself sinking. His lungs begin burning as he struggles to hold his breath, his mind growing fuzzy. 

It’s as if he’s back to being 7 years old and drowning in the sea. Water enters his lungs, no longer able to hold his breath. He had never been able to train himself to last for long periods underwater like his mother could, not even when he hadn’t feared the waters yet. 

A deep despair settles in his chest, and just as his eyes begin to shut on their own volition, his sight blackening at the edges, he hears it again—the melody from before, from Kyungsoo. It’s just as beautiful under the water as it was from the sea, but somehow it sounds clearer than crystal, echoing around him until it’s the only thing he can hear. Something warm and soft grazes against his face, and then he feels something wrap around his waist—arms?—tugging him upwards. 

Blindly, Chanyeol struggles against the sensation. The arms only tighten their hold around him, pulling him towards the surface. Just when he feels his consciousness slipping away, he feels a pair of lips press against his, breathing life back into his burning, tired lungs. Warmth rushes down his spine, his nerves alight with fire, and suddenly, the dawning fogginess leaves his mind. His lungs clear up, and his heart slows down until it beats at a normal pace. He’s still underwater, but it doesn’t feel like it’s tugging him under anymore. A sense of peace washes over him. 

With the panic leaving him, his body sags with sudden exhaustion. He feels dazed and confused. A melodic sound reaches his ears—not singing, but the sound of a silken voice saying his name. Lethargically, Chanyeol blinks his eyes open. 

The first thing he sees is Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo staring at him with his wide, warm brown eyes that always looked like honey when the sunlight hits him right. Dark hair fans out around his round face like some sort of angelic halo. Somehow, he’s shirtless. His plump lips look even redder, more kissable somehow under the waves. It’s moving, Chanyeol realizes, forming the syllables to Chanyeol’s name. That’s the melodic sound he hears.

Distantly, he wonders how Kyungsoo is with him right now. It’s inhumanly impossible for a human to swim from shore to where he fell overboard, especially for Kyungsoo, who is small and soft and lacks stamina due to his hatred of sweating. 

All at once, he notices a mesmerizing movement coming from behind Kyungsoo. A flash of ink-black and metallic silver flickers up and down in his periphery. He traces the movement with his eyes, riveted by its grace and fluidity. To his astonishment, his eyes trace its movement back to Kyungsoo. Instead of legs, his soft belly fades into inky black scales that glitter in the water, ending in a soft divot in his hip.

 _Holy shit_ Chanyeol realizes, shock slamming into his body like a tidal wave. It’s a tail. A mermaid’s tail. The glittering tail undulates gracefully in the water as Kyungsoo’s arm tightens around his waist again. His gaze remains glued to the tail’s movement—the tail that is attached to his _friend_.

But even with this stunning realization, Chanyeol suddenly can’t fight against the tiredness from the adrenaline leaving him. The lethargy grows stronger, and the last thing he remembers before he drifts into unconsciousness is Kyungsoo’s hand caressing his face and his sweet voice warbling out his name, as clear as it would have been if he was speaking above water.

* * *

When Chanyeol wakes up again, it feels as though his head has been slammed with a brick. Unsure of the time, the day, or even where he is, he lets out a feeble groan. His senses return to him slowly, and the first thing he notices is the warmth of a hand clasped tightly with his. Blinking around dazedly, he takes in the wooden walls around him, the wide windows peeking out towards a distant shore, and the familiar seabreeze scent. 

He’s back in Kyungsoo’s room. 

The person in question is sitting in a chair next to the bed—one that the shorter boy pulled up from his kitchen—and he’s slumped over sideways on the bed with his fingers entangled around Chanyeol’s. With some effort, Chanyeol props himself up on an elbow and studies his friend. Kyungsoo’s hair is as fluffy and soft looking as usual, and he’s wearing his typical black t-shirt and shorts. Most importantly, however, is that his friend’s two pale _human_ legs are exposed and clear as day. No tail.

The images of Kyungsoo’s shimmering tail in the water, the sound of his haunting melody in an unknown language flits through his mind. Chanyeol wonders if it was all a dream after all. 

As if hearing his thoughts, his friend shifts on the bed. He can tell the moment Kyungsoo wakes up because the boy stiffens before leaping upwards, a gasp escaping from his lips. It’s only when he sees that Chanyeol is awake and looking back at him that his small body noticeably relaxes, the tension seeping from his narrow shoulders.

“You’re awake,” he whispers, his hand still clasped tightly around Chanyeol’s. 

He opens his mouth to respond, but finds that he can only cough. Kyungsoo immediately leaps to bring a cup of water to Chanyeol’s lips, guiding the straw to his mouth. “Drink slowly,” he advises Chanyeol.

The cool liquid brings immediate relief. He tries again to speak. “What happened? How am I here?” he asks, his voice raspy and near unrecognizable even to himself.

He studies Kyungsoo carefully, noticing the way the smaller boy hunches his shoulders up to his ears and avoids eye contact. “I was on the beach...I saw you on the waters—” and then the hesitant tone leaves his voice, instead replaced with a sense of urgency. “What were you doing out there, Chanyeol? Are you crazy?”

Sheepishly, he shrugs. Kyungsoo’s mouth is set in a moue in a discontent. “I just thought if I could, you know, be in the waters for a bit, I could overcome my fear. I could go with you to Jeju.” The memories of the icy waters submerging him underneath, pulling his body and filling his lungs, return, and he shudders. 

“You idiot,” Kyungsoo admonishes. His eyes look wet, shining in the dim lighting of Kyungsoo’s home. He didn’t notice this before, but the rims of his eyes are red—like he’s been crying. 

A pang of sorrow hits Chanyeol’s heart. In retrospect, he was being a dumbass. And now, well, he feels even less inclined to go near water. He tugs Kyungsoo closer towards him with the hand that’s still interlocked with the shorter boy, until he can wrap his arms around him. Tucking his chin over Kyungsoo’s soft locks, he rubs a soothing hand on the other’s back. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m dumb. I’m sorry for scaring you, Kyungsoo.”

He hears a soft sniffle, and then feels the tip of Kyungsoo’s nose rubbing against his collarbone. It feels slightly wet, like he’s getting his snot all over him, but Chanyeol figures he deserves it. Even like this, Chanyeol aches to kiss him. “I hate you so much sometimes,” says Kyungsoo. He whacks lightly with his fist, but there’s no force behind it. Chanyeol only holds him closer. 

More images resurface in his mind—the haunting melody, Kyungsoo, the ink-black tail. Was that all a _dream _? But Kyungsoo didn’t answer his question earlier when he asked what had happened.__

__“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol starts slowly. The boy in question makes a soft, questioning noise that makes him want to tug him closer. “Did...did you save me?” In his arms, he feels Kyungsoo stiffen. “Was that you? With...were you the one singing?”_ _

__“What are you talking about?” he responds with a tense chuckle. They haven’t been best friends for years for nothing—Chanyeol knows his tells, he knows Kyungsoo._ _

__But maybe he _doesn’t_ , because he’s clearly lying to him right now and he’s not even sure what he _saw_ , if Kyungsoo is _human_._ _

__Nevertheless determined, he forges on. “When I was—drowning—I saw...I saw you. You...what are you?”_ _

__The smaller boy pulls away, and Chanyeol lets him. Kyungsoo sits back properly in the chair next to the bed. “I don’t know what you’re saying, Chanyeol,” he says, but the shell of his ears are red. He’s lying._ _

__“Your—your tail. I saw you have a tail.” He feels dumb voicing it out like this. Something that should be impossible, only part of the folklore of Korea’s past. But the other boy’s reactions are too suspicious for him to falter. “Kyungsoo, please don’t lie to me. Tell me what I saw.”_ _

__A tense few seconds pass before Kyungsoo sighs, deflating. “What you saw...” Kyungsoo hesitates. “What you saw was real,” he admits._ _

__His mind processes Kyungsoo’s words slowly at first, and then all at once. Chanyeol feels his mouth drop open with shock. Even if he was somewhat expecting it, having his best friend confirm it with his own mouth sends a jolt of surprise down his spine. “You’re...”_ _

__“I’m...I’m not human,” he admits, softly. He sucks in a deep breath before continuing. “Have you heard of _Shinjike_?”_ _

__The name sounds familiar to Chanyeol, and he racks his brain for where he’s heard it from. “The folklore?” he asks. Kyungsoo nods. One of his hands come up to his mouth. He starts nibbling on his nails, a nervous tic of Kyungsoo’s ever since Chanyeol could remember._ _

__A memory slots in place. _Shinjike_. It was a tale that his father had told him about as a child, about a mermaid in Geomundo who would warn fisherman against impending storms through a song and throwing stones into the sea. Many of the elder villagers still believe her to be a goddess of the sea who presides over the islands. _ _

__The haunting melody. The rocks that somehow landed near his canoe. Kyungsoo, standing alone amidst the shore._ _

__“You’re...you’re _Shinjike_?” he whispers in disbelief. _ _

__Blushing, Kyungsoo shakes his head. “No, that was—she’s an ancestor. But that’s why I was out there. I feel a Call before a storm and I just...I just felt like I had to be there. I felt compelled to be there. I had no idea you would be there, too.”_ _

__Chanyeol is still taking in his words. “You’re a mermaid,” he mumbles, shell-shocked. His best friend, his childhood friend, his _crush_ is—a mythological creature. _ _

__“Yes,” Kyungsoo says, his voice quiet. “But I’m also just Kyungsoo.”_ _

__“You could never be _just_ Kyungsoo to me,” Chanyeol answers almost instinctively, and has to fight off a blush as soon as his own words register in his mind. The other boy flushes red in response. A silence follows, the room suddenly heating up and feeling warmer than before. _ _

__But then, all of a sudden, Chanyeol recalls his dreams. The ones he has been having ever since his incident when he was a child—the ones with the familiar haunting melody and the hands, tiny hands, clutching his body. His blood runs cold. It couldn’t be, could it...?_ _

__“Kyungsoo, when I drowned when I was a kid—” Chanyeol falters. The smaller boy tenses again. “—that was...that was you then, too, wasn’t it? You saved me back then too, right?”_ _

__He holds his breath as he waits for Kyungsoo to answer. His palms start to feel sweaty, and he tucks them under his thighs. Kyungsoo’s hands look lonely without his there. The other boy fidgets, shifting in his chair, before he responds. “Yes,” he whispers. “That was me.”_ _

__Chanyeol gapes at him, frozen in shock. It’s like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over his head. His mind feels numb—but then memories of the past come flooding in with clarity. The song that he has been hearing in his dreams was the same one Kyungsoo had sang in his beautiful honey tone just earlier today. His hands were smaller then, reflective of his younger self._ _

__And his parents. The way his mother would avoid answering his questions on how he managed to survive. How his father pushed for him to befriend the small, lost boy following Mrs. Kim around the wet market._ _

__It explained how one day, Kyungsoo had started living on the island when he was never there before._ _

__“And your family—”_ _

__“Gone,” Kyungsoo says. His voice is soft, quiet. “That day, I was with my Pod. We were swimming towards Jeju Island, cutting through the Jeju Strait. And then I just—I felt a Call. Just like today, I felt _something_ that just tugged at me and the next thing I knew, when I had come back to myself, I was watching a little boy fall into the water.” His voice trailed off at the end. When Chanyeol looks into his eyes, the mermaid’s eyes shine with wetness again. _ _

__“And then you saved me,” Chanyeol whispers. Kyungsoo quirks up a broken smile at that._ _

__“Afterwards, when I had sang life back into your lungs, I tried finding my family again. They were just gone. No matter how far I swam, I couldn’t find them. So I came here, to this island.”_ _

__His heart felt heavy, and Chanyeol could feel his own eyes well up with tears. “You lost your family because of me.”_ _

__Kyungsoo shakes his head. “I would never, _ever_ blame you for that, Chanyeol. I would make the same choice over and over again if I had to.”_ _

__He wipes away a stray tear. Kyungsoo is looking back at him, a tender look on his face. His words are genuine, so earnest, so full of warmth. Chanyeol’s heart flutters at the look on his face. Even in the darkness of the room, the dim yellow lighting of the old bulbs left behind by Mrs. Kim, with only the crashing of the waves heard through the large windows, Chanyeol finds himself swept away with Kyungsoo’s beauty._ _

__“I took you away from your family,” Chanyeol says. The mermaid opens his mouth to protest, but Chanyeol barrels on. “I took you away. I want to help you return too. I—Kyungsoo, you mean so much to me. I don’t care if I need to figure out how to get over my fear of water. I want to do this for you.”_ _

__The smaller boy bites down on his bottom lip. “You’re not scared of me?”_ _

__He takes Kyungsoo’s hand in his, as soft and small as the rest of him. The hands that have saved his life twice now. “I could never be,” he answers honestly. “I want to stay with you.” Chanyeol squeezes his hand. The mermaid flushes red. His heart flutters again at the sight, and Chanyeol feels his chest squeezing with the overwhelming love and adoration he feels for the smaller boy. And then, suddenly, it’s like he can’t bear it anymore._ _

__Tugging Kyungsoo’s hand towards him, he pulls his fingers to his lips and kisses them gently. He delights in the little gasp that escapes from the smaller boy’s lips, and the answering blush. “I love you,” Chanyeol says, at last. “I’ve always loved you.”_ _

__Kyungsoo’s eyes widen, his hand still resting gently against Chanyeol’s lips. He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing. “You love me?” Chanyeol nods, his heart racing and pounding against his ribcage. “You really do?”_ _

__He pulls Kyungsoo closer to him again until the smaller boy is half-kneeling on the bed over Chanyeol. “I love you so much.”_ _

__With his face bright red, Kyungsoo climbs closer until his knees are placed on either side of Chanyeol’s legs. His shorts ride up to expose the pale expanse of his legs. Then, he slips his arms around Chanyeol’s shoulders, bumping his nose against his in a gentle nuzzle before burrowing his face in the crook of Chanyeol’s neck. “I love you too,” he mumbles. “I love you, Chanyeol.” And Chanyeol knows he means it too, because he can feel the way Kyungsoo’s heart flutters against his skin._ _

__In the quiet din of their room, Kyungsoo raises his round face until he’s only a few inches away from Chanyeol’s. Essentially straddling him at this point, the mermaid has to look down to look at Chanyeol._ _

__A sense of longing suffuses through Chanyeol, the familiar ache of _want_ and _love_ bearing down on him as he takes in the happiness reflected in Kyungsoo’s eyes. And when Kyungsoo presses a hand onto his chest, and then leans down to press a gentle kiss to Chanyeol’s lips, he knows this is a kind of love he wants to keep forever._ _

__“Kyungsoo,” he says. And maybe Kyungsoo can hear the sheer warmth in his voice for him, because he pushes his fingers into Chanyeol’s hair and lets the taller boy press their lips together once more, holding him tight. Their hearts beat in tandem, a rhythmic melody that mirrors the call of the sea outside._ _

__Another day, Chanyeol knows they will need to deal with the unanswered questions. Of Kyungsoo’s existence, and Chanyeol’s near-death experience. Another day, they will find the answers to the magic tingling in Kyungsoo’s blood. Another day, they will learn how Chanyeol factors into his destiny and what the Call means. Another day, they will come across the crossroads of what it means to be human and what it means to be otherworldly; how their fates intertwine, how they complicate._ _

__They have a whole life together to figure it out. But in this fragile moment, Chanyeol looks at Kyungsoo and sees the beauty in this delicate boy. He feels the warm embrace of his love, the tenderness of their connection._ _

__And for a moment, Chanyeol thinks, he could learn to love the sea._ _

**Author's Note:**

> although this fic is a one-shot, chansoo's story here remains unfinished and perhaps one day i will expand further in this universe...but i hope you enjoyed this fic ♥ every comment i receive is so, so greatly appreciated and pored over with care. thank you for reading!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/sooblushes) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/sooblushes)


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